Small-Batch Writing

I’ve entered a phase of novel-writing which partly resembles novel-writing and partly resembles something else—something furtive, like low-level espionage, or a secret drug addiction.

For the past two months or so I was writing full time, flat-out, or as flat-out as you can get in this age of modern distractions like Twitter and Kingdom Rush and babies-who-for-some-reason-don’t-feed-themselves. Now I’m back at work.

But when you’ve got enough momentum going with a novel, and you’ve got a bunch of deadlines for that novel that you’ve agreed to, in writing, you can’t just stop. So you don’t stop.
Instead you go dark.

For example: in the mornings I work from home for an hour or two before I go into the office. Not because there’s any particular reason for me to do that, except that by the time I hit the subway rush hour is over, which means I can probably get a seat, and if I get a seat I can crack open my MacBook Air and steal 20-25 minutes of writing time.

I’m always on the lookout for little gaps like that in my schedule: anytime I can get a block of 10 minutes or more, I take it. I write in waiting rooms. I write in cars while other people are driving (this is very boring for them, but I do it anyway). I write while pasta is boiling.
Sometimes when I’m taking care of my kids they fall asleep, or lose consciousness for other reasons. The second they do I’m at my keyboard. Ninja writer strikes! Then I go back to changing diapers.

It’s not ideal. It’s tough to keep your concentration, with your time chopped up like that. But on the plus side you tend to come at your writing from new angles, freshly, the way you would somebody else’s book. And there’s plenty of time for your subconscious to process things and toss out ideas while you’re distracted by other things. I get my best ideas 10 minutes after I’ve stopped writing and gone on to something else.

And since you’re writing in the spaces in between work, your brain automatically categorizes writing time as play. Which is as it should be.

But it means leading a bit of a double life. I don’t always feel great about it. I don’t know who said, ‘books are written with time stolen from other people’ (Paolo Bacigalupi? Anyway I heard it from him), but it’s true. I’m engaging in petty time-thievery, all day, every day.
If nothing else, it motivates you. What you’re writing had damn well better be worth it.

Lev Grossman

http://levgrossman.com

(via kadrey)

I totally do this.

(via wilwheaton)

(via dearmtnlib)

lettersandlight:

Camp NaNoWriMo 2014 is almost here! What makes Camp different? You can set your own word-count goal, and tackle any writing project you can think of, including scripts, revisions, or theses. It’s a virtual writing retreat where your pen can run wild. 
Graphic by Dominic Flask for Camp NaNoWriMo.

lettersandlight:

Camp NaNoWriMo 2014 is almost here! What makes Camp different? You can set your own word-count goal, and tackle any writing project you can think of, including scripts, revisions, or theses. It’s a virtual writing retreat where your pen can run wild. 

Graphic by Dominic Flask for Camp NaNoWriMo.

beatonna:

she did take a picture

beatonna:

she did take a picture

dearmtnlib:

I like to sit on my lunch break by this big window and the trees and remember that small things have leaves.
and then I remember that these are not native species, that their feet rest in desiccated ground, that in their search for nutrients and water far from their toes they must stretch out under the asphalt, and that when they’re old, if they last so long, they’ll be cut down for ripping up the pavement. because if in the woods, where trees belong, they’d subsist on the soil just above their roots, the circle below their limbs.
but here they’re strangers, foreign, immigrants, unsuited, alone.
I like to think we’re friends.

dearmtnlib:

I like to sit on my lunch break by this big window and the trees and remember that small things have leaves.

and then I remember that these are not native species, that their feet rest in desiccated ground, that in their search for nutrients and water far from their toes they must stretch out under the asphalt, and that when they’re old, if they last so long, they’ll be cut down for ripping up the pavement. because if in the woods, where trees belong, they’d subsist on the soil just above their roots, the circle below their limbs.

but here they’re strangers, foreign, immigrants, unsuited, alone.

I like to think we’re friends.

beatonna:

kalidraws:

So, I’m a huge Game of Thrones fan. I was inspired by seeing Kate Beaton’s ASOIAF art yesterday (Ygritte! Beric Dondarrion!), and had a nice discussion about George R.R. Martin’s awesomely varied lady characters. I haven’t drawn any ASOIAF art lately, but I thought I’d collect my previous pieces in a handy bundle right here:

- The disturbingly nondescript Leech Lord, Roose Bolton.

-Brienne of Tarth— powerhouse lady-knight!

-An early morning in King’s Landing with Sansa.

-Jon Snow & Ghost beyond the wall!

(I’ve also drawn a Khal Drogo, but it’s not my favorite, so I’m not including it!)

It’s a bummer that we’ll probably be waiting a while for the rest of the books to come out, but you can bet this isn’t the last batch of ASOIAF art you’ll be seeing from me.

Who’s excited for the start of the second season on HBO next weekend??

Look what’s on my wall now!

If you’re not following Kali you’re missing out, I have some of her prints on the way to my house AS WE SPEAK

These are only wee postcards, get bigger prints from this show.  And from her store!

theartofanimation:

Goro Fujita